Levamentum
by lalala777
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is absolutely guilt-ridden. Feeling utterly wretched, could anyone help to make him feel better? Burdens are easier tolerated when shared... AUish AD/MM HG/SS


This story deserves a bit of a background, so here I go!

A friend of mine told me today that sometimes she really just wanted to reach into HP and give Dumbledore a GIANT bear hug. (We both love Albus) So I agreed and kind of just went on with my day, and I was just sitting in the car and I pictured.. .something (Not giving it away!) So at first it was, no way, how could I possibly build this story? But then…

Also, I don't usually dedicate, but this one was asking for it!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP, but I pity the person who has to keep track of every single one of those characters! Sucks for them.

**Levamentum**

_Dedicated with love to an old English teacher of mine, who I couldn't have given enough hugs to._

_"__A hug overcomes all boundaries. It speaks words within the mind that cannot be spoken."_

Thunder boomed outside and rain pattered against the fortified walls of Hogwarts castle. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore slumped, exhausted, over his desk.

His head in his hands, he carefully contemplated the events that brought him to the place he was now: graduating Hogwarts, receiving a letter seven years later requesting that he fill the position for Transfiguration professor, falling in love with a gifted, beautiful, raven-haired student, marrying the same girl, becoming Headmaster, then… The Golden Trio.

Not that he would ever speak to them about this, but he and Minerva thought of Ron, Harry, and Hermione as their own children, especially since Albus' many enemies forbid them from having children of their own. Harry, reminiscent of Albus, Hermione, of Minerva, and Ron… well, it was hard to explain that one without a very lengthy discussion.

And now the present. Sitting on the Headmaster's chair at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one that only the most gifted of wizards had sat upon, the most powerful wizard of the age quietly broke down in the privacy the closed doors of his office held, and all the paintings of previous headmasters respectfully looked away, as did Fawkes, wishing they could provide some semblance of comfort for the burdened old man. Merlin knows he needed it. They knew Albus Dumbledore, in all his omniscience and mask of cheerfulness, had to carry the worst load of guilt of anyone they had ever known. Still, he pretended to be as happy as a clam with vigor for the sake of the Ministry, faculty, and students, when on the inside he was a storm of responsibility and remorse. The posthumous Professor Dippet sighed, remembering this weighted man as a carefree teenager under his own reign of the remarkable school. Maybe if the Headmaster position hadn't been thrust upon him, he could've enjoyed being young a bit longer. It was too late for that now.

Suddenly, startling both the paintings and his phoenix, Dumbledore stood, gracefully sweeping over to the window, oblivious to the fresh tears now sliding down his wrinkled cheeks. He brought one hand up to rest against the cool glass surface, tracing invisible designs that only he could see. Then his hand slowly curled into a fist.

Why, why did he always have to ask so much of the people that mattered most to him? First Minerva: he couldn't even properly marry her with this fear for their lives, for God's sake! Then Severus, who he subjected to all sorts of the most sadistic and horrid forms of torture –for only Order information- that always brought him back barely alive and suffering so much he wished he was dead! Ron and Hermione he had selfishly kept mostly safe and sound, for the single reason he couldn't bear to see anyone else hurt. Most recently in his book of 'conquests', Harry, who's life had been, so far, cruel and empty, a martyr for the Wizarding World.

Albus pressed his forehead against the glass, trying to keep his memories from surfacing. Thank Merlin for his Pensieve, for if he were able to keep all _those _memories, he would surely go mad- well, at least madder than he already was, according to the rest of the world.

He was so immersed in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the opening and closing of his door. Only when a soft voice cleared its throat, did his head snap up with a gasp, still facing the window.

"Professor Dumbledore?" it chimed. "I'm dreadfully sorry for interrupting you, but I have been wondering-"

Hermione Granger gasped as her professor turned, revealing a tear-streaked face. Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my, Professor are you alright?" She began to scamper forward. "Are you hurt?"

When the girl was about halfway through the room, Dumbledore brought his hand up with a flourish, motioning for her to stop her progress. Hermione halted obediently, but still gazed up at him with a worried expression on her face.

"I am absolutely fine, Miss Granger," he croaked softly to placate her. He would've offered her a lemon drop, but it didn't seem at all like the right occasion for it.

Hermione sent him a dubious look. "Forgive me, Professor, but I have a hard time believing that."

Albus smiled faintly. "Yes, you would, wouldn't you? There is a reason you are called the brightest witch of your age." It seemed to Hermione that he was talking more to himself than to her. "Now, Miss Granger," he said addressing her, "is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at his rather obvious attempt to change the subject, but she answered the question anyway. "Yes," she replied carefully.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked, forever patient. How else would he be able to manage a bucket load of students and faculty every day?

"Sir… I'm worried about Harry," she blurted, then looked up at him with a grave expression on her face. Albus noticed for the first time that she had tears in her eyes. "He's not the same person I thought I knew. And we're supposed to protect him, Professor, and Ron tells me he wakes up screaming almost every night, but he'll never tell us why, and, oh Professor, I'm so scared!" She confessed.

"We are all worried about Harry, my dear," Albus said gently."But as they say, numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You must realize that Harry will need you, and soon."

Dumbledore turned back to the window, gazing out at the rain. Usually the rain gave him a cleansing feeling, as if he was soaring through it without a care in the world. Tonight, it just felt like he was stuck to the muddy ground, unable to leave, covered in the slimy, sticky substance that was guilt. He was brought out of his thoughts when the girl he thought of as a daughter grasped his wrist and turned him around, making him meet her light brown eyes with his bright blue ones.

"Headmaster," Hermione said quietly, "Don't take the whole world on your shoulders; let the rest of us help at least a little. You're not to blame for Harry, and whatever else it is that's bothering you. Professor Snape, the Potters, Voldemort… Those are all _not your fault_," the girl lectured passionately. Dumbledore patted the girl on her shoulder.

"I do not believe I give you enough credit, Hermione," he half-smiled, conspicuously using her first name for the first time. "You are far more perceptive than normal children your age, and even most adults I think I have met." He shook his head fondly, but still sadly. "I am sorry that innocent, though intelligent, minds like yours were born in a time like this one, even those who are corrupted, like some students in this school have unfortunately become, I feel pity for. It is my deepest regret to make you fight, to force you into a war that none of you should have to suffer through." He sighed. "These are dark times, Miss Granger."

Hermione shook head courageously, marveling at the fact she was talking with the Headmaster in this manner. She was only getting more upset by the moment: all those that died, and those who still suffer… "But Sir," she argued tearfully, "wasn't it you who told us in our third year that happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light?"

"Clever of you to turn my own words against me," Albus remarked. "But-" He stopped short as he looked down, noticing that tears had begun to fall in abundance down Hermione's face. "Oh dear," he murmured softly.

"I don't know why they call it heartbreak," Hermione whispered, with Albus leaning down, straining to hear her. "It feels like every other part of my body is broken too." She began to sob, and Albus couldn't help but let the tears run down his face too.

He cautiously reached out, aiming to stroke her hair, _anything _to make her stop crying, but instead, he found himself with an armful of Hermione. He tensed at first, but slowly relaxed, bringing his arms around her tightly, wanting to protect this good-hearted child from any harm the world wanted to cause her. She clutched the front of his robes firmly, crying softly into his chest.

Wrapped up in their own little bubble, neither noticed Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall storm into the tiny office, followed closely by a reluctant Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

"They were _in _the halls, _after_ curfew-" Snape sneered.

"_Because _they were doing extra work that they_ offered _to do from me," Minerva trailed off, looking in confusion at the looks of surprise on Harry and Ron's faces. She followed their gaze and let out a soft "Oh!" in shock. Even Severus didn't have the nothing-fazes-me expression on his face that he usually had when something astonishing happened, which, in this particular school, was in all probability every second of the day. He didn't even make one of his typical snarky comments.

Minerva McGonagall, after a few seconds, understood. Her usual stern face softened, and in her customary manner, she glided over to the weeping pair. Hitching her skirt up so she could more easily maneuver around Dumbledore's desk, she watched as one of the old man's arms released Hermione's waist and held itself out to her. Not hesitating, she let go of her skirts and grasped it and suddenly found herself stumbling forward into her husband's embrace, securing her tightly against him. Minerva let her head rest against his shoulder, her pointed hat falling off her head and crumpling at their feet. Carefully, the black-haired witch slowly brought her hand to lay on Hermione's back, rubbing her thumb in small circles to attempt to soothe her. As Minerva felt Albus' tears splash against her hair, a single tear found its way onto his shoulder.

Harry couldn't bear just standing there any longer, and he was now making his way in a run towards the group of three. He suddenly himself between Dumbledore and McGonagall, the older woman's free arm wrapping around the boy, making his head prop up against the back of Dumbledore's right shoulder. The Boy-Who-Lived slung his right arm around Minerva waist and placed his left hand on the old wizard's arm. He didn't understand they were crying for him until Hermione mumbled, "Harry," into Dumbledore's robes.

"I'm right here," he softly whispered back.

Just realizing that Harry was actually about a foot away, Hermione sobbed even harder, one hand releasing its grip on Dumbledore's front and making its way over the old man's shoulder, blindly searching for one of her best friends. Harry's left hand darted to meet it and their fingers automatically laced together.

Minerva could hear Ron sniffling loudly in the doorway by Severus, who was so silent it scared her a little. The Transfiguration professor sighed impatiently. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get over here, Mr. Weasley."

Ron smiled gratefully and gracelessly lumbered over to the group, immediately wrapping both arms around Hermione and letting his head fall on her shoulder, disrupting Minerva's grip so she had to move her arm to wrap around Ron. The ginger-haired boy thoughtlessly kept whispering into Hermione's ear, "We'll make it better, I promise," and other sweet little nothings, even though he was crying himself. Hermione and Ginny were his sisters, and even if he was a _bit _of an idiot _sometimes_, he'd protect them with his life.

Severus Snape stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as comfort from the war was being passed around the figurative table, yet none of it was being offered to him. He turned, ready to leave as he was _obviously _not welcome, until he heard his name called. Yet it wasn't really called, more like sobbed.

He spun around sharply, glancing at the group, when suddenly it was heard again.

"_Oh Severus, I'm so sorry," _Hermione Granger whispered. Severus gaped like a fish for a split second, then he composed himself and strode to the little hug-fest, his robes swirling around his ankles like ominous, black clouds. "What was that, Miss Granger?"

Suddenly, Professor Snape found that three pairs of eyes snapped up, glaring at him. He just glared back. Yet, one pair of eyes gazed at him, pleading and… sad. Just plain sad. The eyes glanced down at the girl he had clasped against his chest, who was now sobbing harder than ever. Severus felt himself melt and, hating himself for it, he slowly brought up a hand, reaching forward and beginning to run his fingers through Hermione Granger's hair.

Albus Dumbledore smiled.

Miss Granger's sobs slowly came to an end, but she found she couldn't move due to the number of people surrounding her. And who on _earth _was stroking her hair?

"That would be me, Miss Granger," Severus said silkily.

"I can't believe you read my mind," Hermione mumbled, her face still buried in the comfort of Albus Dumbledore's robes.

"There was no need, Granger, you sufficiently show your every thought through your… _expressive_ body language," he replied smoothly, yet the Potions Master's actions seemed to contradict the tone of his voice, for he was still running his fingers through her honey-colored hair.

Seemingly out of the blue, Minerva scolded sharply, "Please watch your thoughts about Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley."

"Bloody-"

"And your language!"

Hermione laughed, a lovely sound, effectively stunning everyone in the room. That is, except Dumbledore.

"You know, sometimes I want to get out here: get away from the war, see the world, discover my own path. But then, there's also times when receive a laugh," Ron blushed, "a smile," Minerva grinned, "a wink," Albus did just that," a kiss on the cheek," Harry's hand tightened around hers, "an ever friendly glare," Severus froze angrily, "or a hug," everyone laughed softly, except Snape. "And suddenly I realize I wouldn't really want to be anywhere else than where I'm at… or anyone other than who I am."

Let's just say, even the paintings felt a little mushy after that. Too bad Fawkes didn't do dramatic compositions.

_After the fall of Voldemort_

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore couldn't move. It was _over._

Of course he had known that it would end eventually; he just never thought he would ever actually still be living to see the end. Good always won over bad, even though there was usually a heavy cost, and oh, was there one for this war. Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Molly, Fred, Percy, Xiomara, Luna, Flitwick, Choo, and probably the worst… Ron. All their lives, gone in an instant. Why on Earth was _he _still living?

"Albus!"

Thank Merlin…

Minerva McGonagall ran toward him, arms outstretched, and to the surprise of Aurors, students, civilians, and Ministry officials, he kissed her, right then and there. After they broke apart, she immediately rattled off a few names. "Severus?"

"Injured, but safe. Poppy is healing him as we speak."

"Harry?"

"Not a scratch."

The old witch sighed in relief. "Hermione?"

"Endured quite a few nasty curses, but sent out some even worse ones," Dumbledore replied proudly. "Tell me, have you ever even _heard _of the-"

"Ron?" She interrupted.

He was quiet. "Oh!" She sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, the poor boy. Oh, tell me it was absolutely painless, tell me!" She screamed, a wild look in her eye.

"It was," he reassured her. "Completely. Lucius cast the killing curse." Minerva sobbed louder into his chest. "The funny thing was, it was as if Harry and Hermione felt it. Before R-_he _even hit the ground, Lucius was as dead as a doornail from _two _killing curses."

Minerva smiled proudly through her tears, then gasped as the previous sentence sunk in. "They cast _the _killing curse! Two _children, _Albus!"

Albus was about to reply, when a shout made by a very familiar voice rang across the field. "Severus!" Hermione shouted, looking a complete mess with bloody torn clothes and wild hair. "Severus?"

Just then, Madam Pomfrey appeared at the entrance to one of the white tents surrounding the field, supporting the dreaded Potions Master. "Hermione?" Then he spotted her. "Hermione!" Shrugging off the arm of Poppy, who shouted after him and warned him he better be careful, or else, he limped toward her.

Hermione, being the one in the better shape of the two, did most of the running. Severus only had to walk a quarter of the length of the field. When she reached him, they collapsed on the ground together. Severus clutched the young woman to him, rocking back and forth and murmuring the same words over and over again. "No more lies. No more preference. No more masks," he gasped. That is, until Hermione shut him up with a kiss.

Parting for air, she demanded, "Never shut me out, okay?"

"Never," he swore, kissing her again.

All the people ignored Albus and Minerva now; apparently, this relationship contained a lot more potential gossip than the other. McGonagall shook her head in disgust; humans were so frugal. The crunching of leaves behind them alerted them to another's presence. Harry and Mad-Eye walked up to the pair, talking about the battle. Moody stared at Dumbledore for a while in silence, then made a single comment.

"Tell me this, Albus. How in the name of Merlin's beard is it that oldies like us are still alive, and the young ones are leaving before they even get a chance to start? Why? How is that fair, to them or to us?" And with that slightly depressing life-lesson question, he walked away.

"You know," Harry began, so to change the subject. "Ron thought he was going to die. He told Hermione and me last night." It was a bad change of subject; nothing more was said after that.

After about five minutes later, the three of them figured Hermione and Severus had enough… _alone_ time and they swiftly walked over. Harry helped Professor Snape stand as Minerva did the same with Hermione. Albus cleared his throat, instantly gaining everyone's attention.

"Minerva and I decided that, if we lived, we would give you this option. Harry and Hermione, how would you like to be adopted?"

Hermione's eyes gleamed instantly in understanding, but Harry looked wary. "Which family is it? What if I don't like them?" He asked worriedly.

"You can be such a daft idiot sometimes, Harry! _They _want to adopt us!" Hermione said in exasperation.

"Oh," Harry squeaked quietly. Then he became defensive. "Well, _you _try winning a war against Voldemort!"

No one flinched. There wasn't even a pause in the conversation.

Hermione ignored him. "Well, I'd love to accept your offer. Ever since my parents di… well, I've been longing for parents."

"Well, we knew you would show up at Hogwarts anyway," Dumbledore smirked, winking at Severus who glared back.

"I'd like that," Harry piped in softly. Minerva's face spread into a huge grin and she swooped forward, hugging the boy tightly. The other three moved in, creating the infamous group hug, minus one.

_The first day of school_

"Now, quiet down please everyone. I have some announcements to make," Albus Dumbledore declared. "To the first years: as always the Forbidden Forest is named appropriately, for it is just that, forbidden. Now, to everyone. We have most unfortunately lost some of our faculty members due to the war against Voldemort. A moment of silence for them, please." No one spoke for the next minute, every teacher at Hogwarts was beloved, except maybe Binns and Snape. "Well, obviously we will have to fill their positions… so the new Charms professor is our own previous Gryffindor, Hermione Granger!" Hermione stood to all the clapping and whistling from her place next to Severus, smiling at the students, and grinning at the ones she recognized from her years here.

"And our new flying instructor is Harry Potter!" Harry stood to the cheering students, then sat down. "Now, my children, dig in!"

Let me tell you something: there was no more need for any more hugs.

_The End_

Did you guys like it? Review and let me know!

And sorry I said Dumbledore's full name so many times… It's just so much fun!

-lala-


End file.
